Rain and Stalled Cars
by TiA aRiEl
Summary: Sesshoumaru, a famous writer, decides to head out to his agent's cottage for a quiet, serene week. But storm clouds blow in more than just rain... oneshot


**Rain and Stalled Cars  
**By, Tia-chan

It was raining.

The bruised, angry clouds thundered violently, occasionally lighting up the sky with a streak of white light, as if mocking him, saying, 'No sleep tonight, hm, Sesshoumaru?'

These are the thoughts that pooled in the man's mind, as he stared up blankly to the wood ceiling. Pots, pans, and all sorts of circular objects littered the room, catching drops of water.

Plink, plink, plink.

The steady noise was not helping the man in the process of getting to sleep. It's not that he was afraid of thunderstorms—no, of course not, how silly—it was just that the loud, constant rumbling annoyed him. He sighed quietly, brushing the back of his hand against his tired, crusted eyes.

He had come out here, promised peace, quiet, serenity…

THUMP.

He sat up quickly, looked around the room, displeased. At least the sounds of nature were constant, keeping him floating around the edges of sleep. That noise was not natural.

THUMP, THUMP.

Was that…knocking?

"HEEEEY! ANYBODY IN THERE!"

What on earth? Grumbling to himself, a stony look plastered on his face, he hoisted himself out of bed and stumbled through the dark cottage, not really knowing where he was, just listening to the constant thumping of a persistent woman.

Finally he found the door, and pulled it open.

"Oh!" the young woman danced on her toes, drenched, but looked infinitely happy. "Thank goodness! You know, I thought I was stranded for a second. That window up there was starting to look reaaaally—"

"You are a noisy woman, aren't you?" Sesshoumaru commented mildly, frowning. She surely didn't think she could barge in here at…what time was it, anyway? Damned cottages and their lack of technology, he should've never left New York…

"Excuse me?" she glared at him, and then decided she thought better of it, since he _was_ her only hope… "Um, my car kind of…stalled out there,"—she pointed vaguely in the direction of a large clunky shadow which Sesshoumaru decided was a distasteful car—"and there are no other cottages for miles, and it's freezing out here…" she trailed off.

No. Way.

"No," he stated, simply.

"What! What do you mean, no?" she shrieked, looking panicked, as another distant rumble, to her, sounded nearer.

"Do you not understand English, wench?" he question, coolly.

A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, lighting up the two momentarily.

They both caught their breath.

Momentarily…the girl found her wits a second later.

"You arrogant pig! It's raining, and I'm cold, and I can't go anywhere!" she wailed.

Whatever Sesshoumaru had seen in the woman that second ago vanished. His better judgment told him to tell her to go sleep in her car, since she wouldn't get electrocuted, anyway, but the quaking girl on his—well, technically, his agent's—steps was so obviously frightened that he had to let her in.

Five minutes later, they were both standing in the kitchen, candles lighting the room. The girl—Kagome was her name, though he refused to call her anything but 'wench' or 'girl'—was unsuccessfully trying to dry off her hair, while Sesshoumaru puzzled over the use of a medieval stove.

Not only was it dark (he cursed the builders that seemed to think that waking with the sunrise and sleeping at sundown was 'normal') the damned stove was so confusing that after a moment he gave up trying to heat the water.

Kagome was shivering, her wet clothes sticking uncomfortably to her skin. Though it was the summertime, nights still got chilly, and being soaked didn't really help…

"Hey, Sesshoumaru?"

He made a vague sound that she had by now figured out was his way of asking 'What do you want?'

"Do you have any dry clothes I could borrow?" the girl obviously did not remember that he was not a hospitable person, Sesshoumaru thought sourly. But, since she was already here, he supposed she was now partially his responsibility. Also, he didn't want her here longer than necessary just because she'd caught pneumonia.

"I suppose," he replied, snatching a candle up from the counter. Most annoyingly, she trailed along behind him, like some estranged puppy. He growled. "Must you follow me everywhere I go?" he snapped.

She looked sheepish, and he thought that he saw a blush light her face. "Erm…well…I'm kind of afraid of thunderstorms…" she picked at a non-existent piece of lint on her sleeve, letting her wet, stringy hair fall forward to cover her face.

Sadly, Sesshoumaru found this quite endearing—unlike her attitude—and simply looked at her for a moment, until he continued walking to the cottage's bedroom. This time, he did not say anything about her following him.

He rummaged through his suitcase, while Kagome hovered over his shoulder. He found a rather large polo shirt, which had a little signature emblazed on the shoulder, and a fluffy bathrobe. He passed them to her, and then crossed his arms, waiting. She looked at him, confused.

"Well, aren't you going to change?" he asked her. Her blush, this time, was not of sheepishness, but a combination of embarrassment and anger.

"Pervert!" she screeched, and, closing her eyes tight, smacked Sesshoumaru hard in the bicep. "OW! Damn it, that _hurt_!" she yipped, holding her right hand in her left. She glowered at the tall man, who simply smirked lightly in response.

"Then you should not have hit me, girl," he responded. "And do not flatter yourself, I am only guarding my personal possessions." He did not care to share with her that her arm now smarted—slightly, only slightly.

Her whole face was now tomato red.

Soon she found she had no choice, however. "Will you at least turn around?" she squeaked loudly, obviously uncomfortable. He turned without hesitation.

She exhaled behind him, and the hairs on the back of his arms stood up as he heard the rustle of clothing behind him, and heard the wet articles hit the floor. For all he knew, she wasn't wearing anything underneath…

He snapped his mind quickly back into form, cursing his manhood. How he wished he had no testosterone at this moment.

"Okay, I'm done…is there anywhere I can hang these to dry off?" she asked, her voice still slightly higher pitched than usual. Sesshoumaru cleared his throat once, then thought better of it and cleared it again. Still, when he spoke his voice was slightly husky, his unusual light brown, almost gold eyes, shining.

"Yes, you can hang them up there," he pointed to the frame of the bed, which had been a canopy bed, but which he was too lazy to put the cover on.

Now that he looked at her, he realized exactly what he had seen in her in that brief flash of lightning outside. Shapely legs, which were barely covered mid-thigh with the shirt, and to the knee courtesy of the bathrobe, which was untied anyway, shook gently. Her flushed face was framed with tendrils of damp black hair, and long bangs flopped into her unusual gray eyes.

She strode past him quickly, standing on her tiptoes to throw her clothes over the wiring.

Nice backside, too, he mused.

"Now," she stated, still pink, but mostly recovered. "Let's get that stove working, shall we?"

After a few minutes of cursing—Sesshoumaru didn't think that some of the words were appropriate for even men to know—and growling (to his amusement) Kagome had started the stove and the water was heating on the element. Or, what they had agreed was an element, but you could never be too sure.

"This is quite the adventure," commented Sesshoumaru dryly, when they were both sitting on the counter (Kagome had insisted) sipping their peppermint tea.

"Mm," she agreed, smiling.

He looked down at her through the corner of his eye. In the soft light of the flickering flames, with shadows bouncing around the contours of her face and making her droopy eyes shimmer, she almost passed for an angel.

Banish the thought, Sesshoumaru. His inner voice scolded, such a beauty must already have a man.

"Why are you out here?" he asked, slowly. He wasn't about to ask her directly, but with her babbling, he was sure he'd find the answer to his question, anyway.

"Well, I came out here for some quiet time." She replied. "I'm actually going to be in university, soon, so I decided why not enjoy the break to its fullest?" her voice, though light, had shadow. He mused over this for a moment.

"There is something else." He stated. She turned wide eyes to him.

"Well, actually, yes…but how did you know that?" she questioned, brows furrowing.

"I've learned to read people quite well. I suppose it comes with the trade. Writing, you know. Makes you look at people deeper—it's why I've decided that humanity is very shallow." He was surprised with himself; after all, whom had he told that to? No one…

"Oh," she also looked surprised. "Well, I also kind of needed to get away from _someone_," she ran a hand through her hair, a habit Sesshoumaru had picked up on, that she did when she was frustrated. "My ex boyfriend, he won't really leave me alone…so, I told him to get lost, got into my car, and went somewhere he couldn't find me."

Aha.

He nodded, pretending to not be too interested.

"So," she yawned. "What do you do?"

"I write books…so far, murder, and also travel books. I'm thinking of expanding to other things, however,"—he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder, slowly increasing in weight. "Kagome?" she mumbled slightly, her hand loosening on her mug.

Sesshoumaru gingerly leaned over, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty, and pulled the mug from her hands, setting it on the counter with his own. Then, he plucked her gently from her seat, and carried her to the bedroom. There, he laid her into the bed, and covered her with his favorite thick blanket. She grumbled and rolled onto her side, facing him.

He leaned closer, letting her rainy scent float about his brain. He thought about seeing how soft her lips were, as soft as he thought, but merely brushed the hair out of her face.

Kissing could wait—after, all he was a patient man. Kagome would fall for him, in time. Before the summer was over.

He turned to the old couch, two times too small for him, and turned in for the night.

Outside, it barely drizzled.


End file.
